


No Matter How Improbable

by Jade_Dragoness



Category: Dresden Files - Jim Butcher, Merlin (TV), Sherlock Holmes (2009)
Genre: Crossover, Family, Gen, Time Travel, Timey-Wimey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-04-02
Updated: 2011-04-02
Packaged: 2017-10-19 01:13:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jade_Dragoness/pseuds/Jade_Dragoness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt from Jessica: Give us Dresden Files/Merlin/Sherlock Holmes. Prompt: "Eliminate the impossible and whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be true, even if it happens to be two time traveling wizards and the Once and Future King of Britain."</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Matter How Improbable

**Author's Note:**

> Betad by the awesome beachkid!

I hate to say it, but I’ve almost gotten used to facing wizards who break the Laws. It’s a sad thing to admit, even to myself, but I’m no longer surprised when I come face-to-face with a young dark warlock. Even if with my nightmares I’d wish it otherwise. But I can honestly say that I wasn’t expecting the Law to be broken to be the one I faced today.

“Time travel,” I repeated, my voice high with disbelief.

Luccio gave me an uncharacteristic uncomfortable look. Luccio just didn’t get thrown off-guard like that. She was centuries old even if she did look like a young woman in her mid-twenties.

Her tension made me notice how oddly skittish everyone in the warehouse was. I would almost say it was like they’d seen a ghost only I know better than to think _that_ would spook any of them. Even Ramirez, whom I’ve seen make jokes when he’d been stuck in the gut with a knife while another was embedded in his leg, was pale and nervous.

I looked back at where the kid knelt waiting with his head covered by a black hood. There was an oddly patient air about him, as if he was just indulging the Wardens by being here. It made me frown. Young sorcerers don’t act like that.

“So you brought him to Chicago and haven‘t yet executed him, because…?” I asked.

The expression that crossed the face of every Warden in the room was the constipated sort that would’ve had me making jokes about their intake of fiber. But I could see how carefully those battle-hardened Wardens made certain to keep a safe distance away from the hooded kid. They were that honestly freaked out. These were the same men and women who’d fought Red Court Vampire armies without flinching or hesitating.

 _Who_ was this kid?

“We need you to soulgaze him, Harry,” Luccio said, quietly.

“Why?” I demanded. “Any of you can do that just as easily!”

“You have one of the most unique experiences soulgazing that I have ever heard described,” she said.

“It’s because of who he says he is, man,” Ramirez muttered, as he stepped closer to me. “And the time he says he comes from.”

Baffled, I opened my mouth to demand a better explanation when Luccio stopped me cold.

“He says his _name_ is Merlin.”

I blinked. Then I looked at Ramirez, who nodded miserably and looked back at Luccio.

“Merlin? As in _The_ Merlin?” I asked, my voice entirely too plaintive. “Don‘t we already have one of those?”

“Not one that comes from the future and the past,” Luccio sighed.

“Wait. What?” I asked, eloquent as always. It’s a skill.

“The tests show that he originally came from over a 1,000 years in the past,” Luccio explained.

“But also that he just came from being nearly 250 years in the future,” Ramirez added.

I opened my mouth and then closed it. That was a lot of time travel. A surprising amount for such a young wizard. No wonder everyone was spooked that the kid said his name was Merlin.

There was actually a chance that he was.

Hell’s bells.

I swallowed down hard. “And why do you want me to soulgaze him? Don‘t you have some special test you can do on him? See if he recognizes anything that once belonged to him?”

“That‘s the test they use for the Dali Lama,” Ramirez grumbled. “And how could he recognize something if maybe he hasn‘t come across it yet?”

“If he‘s really _The_ Merlin,” I felt compelled to point out.

“Most of the Senior Council is already on their way here. We need you to check him is for security. So we can be certain of the risk we‘re exposing them to. He‘s been checked by Ramirez and I. We need a third. You’re one of the few who wouldn’t be easily deceived by a sorcerer powerful enough to time travel.”

Yeah. And who was the only reformed black magic user in the Wardens at the moment? Me.

I nodded in resignation, squared my shoulders and walked to where the kid was kneeling.

The nearest Warden, moved close enough to pull back the dark hood.

Stars and stones, I’d been right by thinking he was kid. He looked about as old as Molly. Dark hair and ridiculous stick out ears. He blinked blue eyes up at me. I was oddly heartened that he didn’t look scared, or arrogant, or insane. The calm in his body language was evident in his face.

“Again?” he asked, his voice thick with an accent I didn’t really want to call English. It wasn’t like any I was used to hearing. But then, if he was from over 1,000 years ago, it was lucky that we understood each other at all. Reading Shakespeare makes my eyes cross sometimes, and at least he was from within the last 500 years.

I took a step closer and caught his gaze with mine. After a beat, his eyes glowed bright with gold light and the soulgaze swept us up.

Every soulgaze I’ve had has been different. They are metaphor wrapped in symbolism wrapped in allegory wrapped in a hard-shelled corn tortilla.

But this…

This was like being dipped in the feeling of magic. Pure magic. Laughter, delight, blood, power, swords slamming into each other, the powerful beat of a dragon’s wings, the roar of a cheering crowd, the feeling of the entire world twisting itself to my whims. Not because I forced it to, but because it wanted to, as if I was the source of all magic, the reason for magic, the definition of what made it magic.

But the most terrible thing was that I just didn’t quite know it yet.

I staggered back and gasped for breath.

Merlin rocked back on his heels. And yeah, I had no doubt that he was Merlin. But he wasn’t _The_ Merlin. He had a long way to go and a lot of growing up to do, but he was on that path. I’d seen it.

“Yeah,” I managed to rasp out after a moment. “He‘s Merlin, alright.”

Neither Luccio nor Ramirez looked surprised. No wonder, if they‘d gotten even half of what I‘d seen. The other Wardens, on the other hand, looked like they were going to faint. I didn’t want to admit out loud that I felt like joining them.

Fortunately, the arrival of the Senior Council stopped anyone from actually falling over.  
*-*-*-*

Even the word of three Wardens, (though I think it had something to do with me being one of them,) wasn’t enough for most of the Senior Council to accept that the skinny beanpole of a young man was actually the great and powerful Merlin.

The Merlin, the head of the White Council not the young one, wanted have him executed that very minute. It had taken Luccio’s absolute refusal and before he was convinced into letting a senior member conduct a soulgaze to stop the execution altogether.

I was just glad that The Merlin actually listened to Ebenezar when he verified our findings.

It was just about then that Merlin, the great-and-powerful-one-to-be, stopped cooperating with us.

“I don‘t have time for this,” was all he said before he tore through the wards and spells that should have held him immobile as if they were tissue paper. And it wasn’t finesse. The kid had raw power and overloaded every spell like it was nothing. Here in this warehouse were the very top wizards in the entire world in terms of power. This kid, _Merlin_ , made them look like pikers.

The backlash of all that magical energy being dispersed knocked everyone to the ground and broke all the windows in sight. And probably destroyed a few out of sight too.

I never thought I’d see The Merlin or Ancient Mai knocked on their asses like that. I would cherish that mental picture when I had the chance. But right now I had a power-house the equivalent of a magical nuclear bomb - with as much power to literally replicate that kind of damage - walking towards me.

“Your name is Harry Blackstone Copperfield Dresden,” Merlin said, looking down at me where I was stretched out flat on my back. Yeah, I hadn’t managed to stay on my feet either.

I shuddered at the feel of my true name coming from his lips. He shouldn’t have known that. I hadn’t given him my name. How did he know it?

He was Merlin, why the hell was I even asking myself that?

“I‘m running out of time,” he said. He gave me such a pleading look that I actually gaped up at him in surprise. “I need your help.”

He needed _my_ help?

“I saw that you were the one who could help me,” Merlin said, oblivious to how the rest of the Wardens and Senior Council members where slowly picking themselves up off the floor and staring at us. He held out a hand to me. I cautiously reached up and used it to leverage myself back on my feet.

It was a little hilarious that Merlin barely came up to my shoulder. But then he could squish me like a bug, so I guess it evened out.

“What do you need help with?” I asked politely. Hey, I wasn’t completely crazy. I wasn’t going to piss off Merlin.

“I need to find a descendant of the Pendragon line,” Merlin said, his expression sober and tense.

“Pendragon?” I asked, and blinked. “You need to find _King Arthur‘s_ descendants?”

Merlin nodded. “I need one of them.” Then he said a couple of words that were surprisingly soft. His eyes flashed gold again. He raised his right hand and in the cup of his palm a white glowing sphere formed. He lifted it to me so that I could see it clearly. “I need to find her.”

And there, to my jaw-dropping disbelief, leaving me more surprised than anything else had all day - which was really saying something - was with crystal clarity the image of someone I knew.

“Murph?!” I sputtered, in surprise before straightening myself up to emphasize every extra inch height I had to glare down at Merlin. Super-powered wizard or not, Murph was _my_ friend. “What do you want with Murphy?” I demanded, glowering. “I‘m not letting you get anywhere near her if-”

“I‘m not going to hurt her,” Merlin said, interrupting me before I could start shouting. “I just need her blood.”

Oh yeah, that was reassuring! But I throttled my instant response of ‘Hell, no!’. I took a deep breath and stiffly nodded at him to continue.

“She is important, I need her blood as an anchor,” he said

“Why Murphy?” I asked. “She has a ton of family, why not one of them?”

“She has a destiny,” he answered, gravely.

I groaned. “Why don’t I like the sound of that?”

Merlin actually gave me a tiny rueful grin. Well, if there was anyone who understood the idea of destiny sucking, it would be him.

The sound of the warehouse door opening made everyone, Wardens and Senior Council alike, jump. When Mab walked in radiating all the grace and power of the Winter Queen, I just sighed. Why does my life insist on getting more difficult by the moment?

Mab was clad in gauzy deep blues and pale green. A crown of ice or carved diamond glittered on her head. It stabbed high into the air with sharp spikes. She was practically dripping with sapphires and emeralds. Even the malk, Grimalkin was wearing a collar of gems around its throat. She wasn’t even trying to pretend to pass for human.

That was worrying.

And while everyone else had their attention caught by Mab in full Winter Court regalia, I was more interested in the blond young man clad in half-armor following behind her.

“So this where you went,” he glowered at Merlin. I blinked at the accent coming from him. It was the same as Merlin’s.

“Arthur,” Merlin said, relieved.

I choked and everyone stared at Arthur instead of Mab.

“Merlin.” Mab’s voice through Grimalkin was still disconcerting. “My debt to you in paid in full.”

Merlin blinked in surprise and then nodded cautiously. “Um, right.”

Mab smiled, her lips painted a luscious sea green, and just as sure to drown the unwary. “You will meet me soon. And we will have so much to discuss,” hissed Grimalkin. As neat as that, Mab turned and walked away.

Merlin swallowed in a loud gulp. I stared at him. I remembered those two had a history. One that, from Merlin’s perspective, probably hadn’t happened yet. Oh boy.

“I am never going near that woman again,” Arthur said flatly, walking towards us.

Merlin just gave him a crooked grin. “You just feel that way because fairies keep trying to kill you. How many times has it been now? I‘ve lost count.”

Arthur just swiped at him with an armored fist. Merlin ducked away and grinned harder.

“We don’t have time to throw a party, or whatever it is you’re doing,” Arthur said. He frowned at me, at the Wardens and at the Senior Council. “Mordred’s knights are getting closer. Tell me you found her.”

Mordred. Stars and stones, if Lancelot and Galahad came through the door next, I wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised.

Merlin’s smile wiped away and he turned to me. “Take us to her.”

“Okay, alright,” I said, giving up resisting. I looked at Merlin, Arthur, Luccio, Ramirez, all the extra Wardens and the Senior Council. “But there‘s no way we’re all going to fit in my car.”  
*-*-*-*

Fortunately for me, and for the carrying capacity of the Blue Beetle, Luccio decided that the first priority of her Wardens was keeping the rest of the Senior Council safe and away from anything sent by an infamous sorcerer like Mordred.

Mordred could give _Merlin_ a run for his money, according to legend. No one wanted to come up against his forces unless there was no other choice. The Senior Council’s decision to leave as soon as possible was helped along when Merlin told them all that Mordred’s undead knights were especially resistant to magic and physical attacks. Even he could barely slow one down.

And Mordred had sent two dozen.

I never had more of a reason to compare the most powerful wizards on the planet to scared rabbits than I did at that moment. And I tried not to think about what it said about _my_ own sanity that I was ignoring my screaming survival instincts - which were shouting that I needed to head for the nearest bunker and huddle there until this blew over - to help out Merlin and King Arthur. Okay, so technically he was Prince Arthur. It was still freaking mind-boggling.

“Okay, please explain to me exactly why you need Murphy‘s blood,” I said as I carefully negotiated through Chicago traffic. I was grateful that the car had only just come back from Mike, the wonder mechanic who kept the Beetle going. Even with the added effect of Merlin’s magic, the Blue Beetle would be able to chug along long enough to get us to Murphy’s house.

I hoped.

Merlin was tightly gripping the handle of the front passenger door with one hand, while braced against the dashboard. His eyes were wide as he looked at the passing city.

Oh, that was right. He’d arrived in a hood. He wouldn’t know how 21st century Chicago looked like. Arthur merely looked bored, but the attentive glitter in his eyes gave him away. He was ready to strike at any sign of a threat.

“Mordred is to blame,” Merlin said, his voice tight. His eyes widened comically when I shifted to a higher speed and we merged onto the highway. “We wouldn‘t have needed to arrive at this time and place it if wasn‘t for him.”

“What did he do?” I asked, a little impatiently. With Murphy involved, I wanted all the details.

“He tried to prevent King Uther from ever being born,” Merlin said.

I frowned. “Uther?”

“My father,” Arthur said, flatly.

“Oh,” I knew that. I’ve read all the Arthurian legends, including a few that never made it to public distribution. Being a wizard, especially one which such direct ties to Merlin‘s legacy does that for you. Of course, I’ve also read all of the Lord of the Rings, and I don’t exactly expect Frodo or Samwise to pop up anytime soon.

“At first he tried the spell on Arthur,” Merlin explained. “But Arthur‘s destiny is too great. The spell couldn’t prevent him from ever being born. But with Uther…”

I frowned. “But Arthur‘s his son. How does that work?”

Merlin shook his head. “I’m not entirely certain.”

“And where does Murphy come into the picture? You called her an anchor.”

“To prevent history from being irrevocably changed we need to find anchors. People who would not exist without King Uther and those of his lineage. And your Lady Murphy is the only one in this time who can be an anchor.”

“Because of her destiny?” I asked, skeptically.

“Yes. Her life will have an impact on not only this time, but for hundreds of generations to come,” Merlin said solemnly.

I blinked in astonishment. Then I couldn’t help but grin. “That sounds like Murphy. She‘s saved my ass more times than I can count.”

“She is very important,” Merlin said firmly. “If she never exists, it would effect not just her life but the lives of thousands and thousands yet to be born. And not for the better.”

“How many more of these anchors do you need to keep Mordred from erasing Uther?” I asked. I sighed in relief as I came to the traffic light that would let me turn into Murphy’s neighborhood.

“One more after this,” Arthur said.

Merlin nodded. “The spell calls for four individuals. One per cardinal point.”

“That explains your little trip 250 years in to the future. Whose blood did you take?” How many descendents could Arthur Pendragon have running around anyway?

Arthur and Merlin exchanged a look.

“It isn‘t any of your concern,” Arthur said, pointedly.

“Aw, come on,” I protested. “I‘m helping out.”

“He’s a captain of a ship, and helped to save the world. That‘s all I can tell you,” Merlin said. “You shouldn‘t have too much knowledge of days to come.”

I frowned, slowing the car to park in front of Murphy’s small house. “You guys do,” I complained.

“Yes, but we make the rules,” Arthur said arrogantly.

I scowled at him.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “You‘re being a prat again.”

“What I am is impatient and suspicious,” Arthur said, darkly. He lookedat the quiet surrounding houses on Murphy’s block with a suspicious eye. “Last time, those knights found us in less than two days. We have already been here for nearly one. And the only weapon we have to stop them is Excalibur, since your magic is pretty much useless, Merlin.”

Merlin joined me in scowling at Arthur.

“I can see why you call him a prat,” I said to Merlin.

“Hey!” Arthur complained.

We got out of the car. I made sure to grab my blasting rod and my shotgun. I fervently wished that I had stopped to pick up one of the swords from my apartment. Even if I couldn’t wield a Sword of the Cross there was no reason that Murphy couldn’t. And if Excalibur worked on those knights then Fidelacchius should too. I’d recognized the hilt of Amoracchius at Arthur’s hip which confirmed that rumor.

I left Merlin and Arthur bickering with the kind of familiar tone that only came from living with someone for a long time, and went to knock on Murphy’s door. I had the feeling I’d have a lot of explaining to do. It wasn’t everyday I showed up with two young men wearing what looked like Ren Faire outfits on her doorstep.

Okay, so with my life, it was just every _other_ day.  
*-*-*-*

Murphy took the news of the arrival of Arthur Pendragon and Merlin on her doorstep surprisingly well.

I thought there would have been at least a little surprise at finding out that your great-great-who-really-knew-how-many-times-great ancestor was King freaking _Arthur_. I still was having a hard time wrapping my head around it, and I wasn’t the one with the direct lineage. But Murphy didn’t even blink.

“Only you, Harry, make my life this interesting,” Murphy said, sarcasm shading her voice.

“I had nothing to do with this,” I told her defensively. “It‘s not my fault!”

She rolled her blue eyes at me, exasperated, before turning to where Merlin sat across from her in the living room. “What exactly do you need?” she asked him.

“Only a handful of your blood, Lady Murphy,” Merlin said, earnestly.

She shot me a questioning look.

“It‘s okay, Murph,” I said, knowing exactly what she was thinking. You don’t get to learn about magic the way Murphy had without knowing that you don’t give you blood away without being damn sure what it was going to be used for. That was one of the reasons why she was always been the one who made sure that any of my blood or tissue samples I ended up giving in hospitals were always destroyed.

Like I said, she’s got my back.

“Okay, let me get my first aid kit,” she said.

I shifted on the sofa, trying not to dislodge the girly lace doilies.

“She‘s taking it well,” Arthur observed from where he stood near the living room window, keeping an eye on the neighborhood.

“It takes more than a little time travel to rattle Murphy,” I said. I wasn‘t about to explain everything that Murphy had fought over the years. A little blood-letting was hardly going to rattle her. “She can handle a lot.”

Then an odd oppressive feeling descended upon me. I could feel the shiver of dark magic in the air. It made it hard to breathe.

“They‘re here!” Arthur yelled, making me and Merlin jump.

A crash of breaking glass sounded from where Murphy had gone to find the kit.

“Murphy!” I jumped to my feet and made a beeline for the kitchen., Merlin and Arthur following at my heels.

My heart nearly stopped. A knight, covered head to toe in rusting dark mail, swung at Murphy with a broadsword that was nearly as long as she was tall.

Murphy’s Aikido skills came through and she neatly ducked the swing and grabbed an arm to send the knight slamming into the wall. But there was another knight coming right up behind her.

“Murphy! Duck!” I aimed my blasting rod, but next to me Merlin already had his hand up, with his palm toward the knight. His eyes glowed.

The knight stiffened and jerked back into the backyard like he’d been yanked by a large, invisible hand. He took the third and fourth knights that were right behind him back with him

I didn’t even want to think about how tough these things were to be able to make it past Murphy’s threshold with such ease. This house had the equivalent threshold of Fort Knox.

“That’s not going to stop them. We need to leave,” Arthur said. He stabbed firmly at the knight that Murphy had knocked around. Then to make sure it was dead, he decapitated the thing. Fortunately for Murphy’s kitchen, as an undead killing machine, it didn’t exactly have a working heart to pump blood all over the place. “This place is hardly defensive.”

Murphy nodded sharply. “Follow me. We’ll take my car. I‘m not trusting our lives to your rusted tin bucket, Harry.”

“The Blue Beetle is not rusting,” I complained, mock-insulted. Rust was about the only thing that wasn’t happening to my car. Everything else practically had, including mold demons.

“Yet,” she added, tossing me a small grin then we followed her quickly to the garage and into her car. I sat in the backseat out of the mostly futile hope that it would keep me from affecting the engine. The Saturn was a fairly new car. Murphy had needed to get it after a bomb had taken out her old one. She wouldn’t be happy with me if I broke it.

From my vantage point I could see a long, shallow cut along Murphy’s neck. Blood flowed down in tiny trails until a small stain gathered on her shirt collar.

“Are you okay?” I asked Murphy, quietly.

“Yeah, I nearly didn‘t duck in time,” she said grimly.

“Jesus, Murphy, I‘m sorry,” I shuddered.

She shook her head so her blonde hair swept out of her eyes. “I hate to say it, but I’m pretty used to it. But you could have told me that I’d need my gun when you showed up.” She arched her eyebrows at me.

I grimaced. I’d honestly thought I‘d have more time to warn her about Mordred’s knights. “Yeah.”

“What were those things?”

“Undead knights,” I said. Then I had a thought. “Merlin, what about Murphy‘s neighbors? If those knights are still out there, innocent bystanders could be in danger.”

“They‘re mostly after us,” Merlin said. “Anyone else won‘t be touched.”

“Mostly?” I repeated in unison with Murph.

Merlin and Arthur both grimaced. Oh, yeah. That made me feel better.

“The spell that Mordred used to send them after us is tied to our blood,” Merlin explained.

“Aw crap,” I said as I figured it out. I rubbed my forehead to try to tease out a headache I could feel gathering. “They‘ll be going after Murphy too.”

“At least until we head for the next anchor,” Merlin said. “They‘ll follow us.”

“Then you should take my blood now,” Murphy said, sensibly. “The sooner you can move on the safer the rest of us will be.”

“Agreed,” Arthur said, and he pulled out a slim dagger from somewhere. Considering he was sitting next to me, I had to wonder exactly where he‘d grabbed it from. He handed it to Merlin. “Here, make yourself useful.”

I tried not to wince in sympathy when Merlin nicked a shallow cut into the underside of Murphy’s right arm. I had to look away and clench my jaw. You’d think that I’d be pretty used to seeing blood and stuff. And you’d be right. Except when it comes to my friends. I really don’t like seeing them get hurt. Especially Murphy, and not just because she’s a woman, no matter what she may say about my chauvinistic attitude.

She’s my best friend. It’s as simple as that.

So even that small cut that Merlin was slicing into her arm made me want to wrench the blade out of his hand and stick my shotgun under his chin in retaliation. Yeah, not exactly a proportionate response. I have anger issues. It’s a long story.

“We’ll need a empty area to work the spell to get us to the next anchor,” Merlin said, as he carefully watched Murphy’s blood drip slowly into a small glass vial about as long and wide as my thumb. He didn’t spill a drop.

“What we need is a place that won‘t have any innocent bystanders,” I said. I caught Murphy’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “A park?”

Murphy frowned. “There‘s a park only a couple minutes away with a baseball diamond that‘s usually empty by this time in the evening. Think that‘s enough space?”

Merlin looked confused.

“They have no idea what a baseball diamond is, Murphy. Time traveling tourists, remember? But yeah, that should be enough space.”

Murphy snorted, and turned the car toward the right direction.

I peeked behind us out the back window and didn’t see any undead zombie knights following us. That was actually reassuring. They’d found us damn fast at Murphy’s home. Way too fast.

It made me wonder if one of the powers the knights had was teleportation. It would _suck_ in too many ways to describe if the knights could use the Ways. Stars, I hope they couldn’t use them. It would mean that any advantage we got from using the car would be lost the minute they found just the right Way to open to follow us. Time didn’t work the same way in the Nevernever that it did here on Earth. They could have opened up a Way as soon as we hightailed it away from Murphy’s house.

“How much prep time do you need to set up your spell?” I asked Merlin.

He stopped off the vial of Murphy’s blood with a silver cap before he looked back at me. “It’s long spell, I have to cast it over five minutes and once I start I can’t stop. The spell is too powerful.”

I nodded. “Okay, so if those knights show up again, I‘ll buy you time.”

Arthur gave me a faintly impressed look before he rolled his eyes. “If Merlin‘s magic can‘t stop them, what makes you think that you can do any better?”

I grinned at him, and pulled out the shotgun I had grabbed from my car. “Say hello to my little friend!”

“A stick,” Arthur said flatly. He frowned at the gun. “A stick with metal on it.”

Murphy laughed at me. “You should have gone with the boomstick quote.”

I sulked then sighed. “I‘ll make it work.”

Less then ten minutes later, Murphy parked the car just long enough for Merlin, Arthur and me to get out.

“Keep driving, Murph,” I told her. “Wait at least twenty minutes before coming back for me. These two should be gone by then. And with you on the move then those knights shouldn’t be able to get a lock on you. When you come back, if you don‘t see me, just leave. Keep driving for a couple more hours. If you still don‘t hear from me, go to my apartment and pick up _Fiddelachius._ It‘ll protect you.” Because I wouldn’t be around to do it. But I had more brains than to say that to Murphy, then she wouldn’t go.

She didn’t look happy by my suggestion anyway. “Okay. Stay in one piece until I get back, Harry,” Murphy said quietly. Then she backed the car out of the parking and drove away.

I turned back to Merlin and Arthur. They were standing in the middle of the baseball diamond. Merlin was drawing a large circle into the sandy soil with the tip of Excalibur. When he finished the power that sprung up was so strong that it threw off a golden light. It lit up the entire park as if it was mid-day instead of twilight. Arthur waited inside the circle, an impatient look on his face. He didn’t look happy until Merlin handed back the sword.

I paced outside the circle, keeping my eyes on shadowed parts of the park, waiting for an attack. I had my shotgun in my hands, but I also had my blasting rod ready. The kinetic rings on my right hand were fully charged. My shield bracelet was on my wrist. I was as prepared as I would ever be for an attack of undead knights from the past.

Undead knights from Mordred, a sorcerer so infamous he was still used to spook baby wizards.

Stars and stones. How did I get myself into these messes? I wished I had finished carving my new staff. I had the uncomfortable feeling I’d need it.

Merlin had only been chanting a minute when a slit appeared in the air. It widened into a slender oval with smooth edges. And the opening was directly across the circle, opposite of where I was standing. Dammit.

“They‘re here!” I shouted. I only had two seconds to prepare before twenty of those knights poured out of the Nevernever and smashed straight through the circle towards Merlin.

I activated most of my force rings and threw five of the knights ass over teakettle and back into the Nevernever. The oval closed as abruptly as it had opened.

Go Team Dresden! Five down.

Arthur didn’t hesitate and put himself between Merlin and the remaining knights. With the circle broken, I bounded over to be closer to them. That way I wouldn’t accidentally catch them in the crossfire.

I aimed and shot, again and again. I aimed for knees, hoping to wound the knights enough to make them easier targets for Arthur’s blade. I knew that my gun wouldn’t actually be able to kill them. But even an undead killing machine was subject to the weaknesses of a human body if they were based on one. Knees that couldn’t bend couldn’t move.

And buckshot was excellent for providing maximum damage to such small areas.

Arthur tossed me a grin, and I shot out the knees of a knight that was getting too close to Merlin. Then he decapitated it with a smooth movement that brought him back around to facing off against the others.

“Your little friend is more impressive than it looks,” Arthur said.

I pumped the shotgun, aimed and shot again. “It‘s loaded with iron buckshot. Perfect for killing faeries and your pick of monsters.”

At faeries, Arthur’s eyes light up.

“You can‘t have one,” I continued. “It would be way too much of an anachronism.”

“People of the future are so insolent,” Arthur grumbled, and stabbed another knight. Following on the same motion, he spun to smash his armored elbow into a knight’s head, driving the armored creature to its knees behind him. He stabbed back with the sword and caught the knight straight through its neck.

“Okay, now you‘re just showing off,” I complained, trying not to show that I was impressed as hell by that move. I’ve seen a lot of sword fighting and I could tell that Arthur lived and breathed the sword. For his young age, he was a master.

Merlin ignored us, his eyes glowing with a gold light that grew brighter and brighter as he chanted. There was a nimbus of blue-white light gathering around him like an aura. The power pulsed and fell at his feet as if it was water. It expanded into a glowing circle five feet across.

I took a step away so my feet wouldn’t touch it and shot the last buckshot round into the nearest knight. We’d taken down ten of the knights, five were back in the Nevernever, and we still faced five more.

“Arthur!” Merlin shouted. “We have to go!” He jumped into the puddle of light and sank in until he vanished.

With a sharp salute in my direction ,Arthur turned and leapt in after him.

I eyed the knights and heart droped as I realized that they weren’t going after them. Their attention was solely on me.

What. The. Hell.

Merlin had said that they wouldn’t came about anyone who wasn’t of their bloodline. That anyone who wasn‘t their descendent got ignored. Which had to mean… I shook away those thoughts and focused on the threat in front of me.

“ _Fuego!_ ” I shouted, desperate to make an opening and run for it. But the blast of fire splashed off their armor as harmlessly as if I‘d tossed bucket of water on them. I backpedaled and focused - on my fear and anger at the threat these things posed to my friend. I built it up, gathering more energy, and then poured that power into my blasting rod. “ _Pyrofuego!_ ” I thundered.

The fire that roared out of the rod was blue-white and it hit the knights with all the force of an oncoming train. And when it faded away, it left the those knights standing. Their armor glowed bright red with heat, and still they kept coming.

Then, as if I wasn’t already screwed enough, the other five knights I had tossed back into the Nevernever came back to join the party through another opening. And Murphy wouldn’t be back for around twelve minutes. I wasn’t going to last that long.

Hell’s bells, I was dead. I was so dead.

Then I realized that the the glow of Merlin’s time traveling spell was still around. Which meant that the spell was still active.

I had barely acknowledged the thought before I jumped.  
*-*-*-*

I landed with a crash of breaking wood, falling hard onto a stack of crates. I was disoriented and a little nauseous. It felt as like gravity had flipped on me as I had traveled. Next time I wanted less rollercoaster in my ride. It took me a moment to get my stomach under control.

“Harry? Why did you follow us?” Merlin asked, staring at me in concern. “You shouldn‘t be here. This isn‘t your time.”

Arthur offered me an armored hand and I used it to pull myself out of the kindling that used to be crates.

“I know,” I said, annoyed. “But the knights kept attacking me. They didn‘t follow after you. I didn‘t have a choice; I‘d be dead otherwise.” And then the full weight of what I’d done hit me. “Please, please tell me you can send me back.”

Arthur and Merlin exchanged looks.

“It can‘t be a coincidence,” Arthur said.

I swept away the remaining splinters of wood from my duster. Pieces of all sizes fell out, including a few that could have hurt me pretty badly if the coat wasn’t spelled to be stab-proof.

“Not twice,” Merlin agreed.

I gave them an irritated look. “Okay, enough with the shorthand. Explain.”

Merlin considered me soberly. “The first anchor we found, the captain wasn‘t the only descendant from our bloodlines there. His first officer was _my_ descendant.”

I stared at him. “Are you saying what I think you‘re saying?”

Merlin nodded.

I was a descendant of Merlin. The Merlin. Who was currently a gawky young man with stick-out ears. Who didn’t look like he could fight off a tissue paper monster let alone have the power to destroy a mountain and not even breathe hard afterwards.

Well that explained why the knights kept attacking me. And now I was wondering which of my parents was from his bloodline. My mother? My father? I had no way of knowing.

“Well, Grampa, can you get me back?” I finally asked, once I got my brain kick-started again.

Merlin made a disgusted face. “Grampa?”

Arthur cracked up laughing. “Grampa! Oh the look on you face, Merlin. Ha!”

Merlin glared at him before looking back at me. “I can’t send you back yet. We have to get the blood of the last anchor first. Then when I set up the spell to send us back to our time, I can alter it enough to also send you home.”

I slumped and sighed. “Figures. I guess I‘m helping you guys some more.”

“I don‘t suppose that friend of yours can help too?” Arthur asked, looking for the shotgun.

“No,” I said grumpily. “I‘m out of rounds.”

Arthur shook his head at me. “This is why swords are superior.”

I snorted, then I really looked around. “Where are we?”

We were in some sort of alley. Trash and old newspapers were scattered on flat paving stones. The air was thick with smoke. The familiar smell of horses was strong. As I looked out the exit of the alley, I saw a horse drawn carriage pass by.

I stared. A couple of people walked quickly across the alley opening, not even bothering to look in our direction. And what they were wearing… well it certainly wasn‘t clothes I saw everyday… it was period clothing I’d seen before in movies. Or during some of the more enthusiastic conventions.

“We‘re back in Albion,” Merlin answered.

I blinked and put that together with what I’d just seen.

“We‘re in England?!” I yelped. We were in Victorian England. Oh hell, I wasn’t even born yet. I’ve landed way too damn close to the headquarters of the White Council in Scotland. I might as well have gone knocking on their door. And I’d just broken one of the Laws: Thou shalt not swim against the Currents of Time.

Stars and stones, I was going to get killed by my own fellow Wardens if I wasn’t careful. And Mordred’s remaining knights could still show up at any moment.

“Okay, what to you need to track down the anchor?” I asked urgently.

Merlin shook his head. “Nothing but one of Arthur‘s hairs.” I watched as he pulled a hair from Arthur’s head and set about creating a thaumaturgic connection to the anchor.

Arthur rubbed his head and sighed in irritation. “You are so going to be spending the next week cleaning out the stables, I swear.”

Merlin and I both ignored him.

I was impressed by the spell that Merlin was crafting. Once, I had tried to find my apprentice using her old baby hair to create the same kind of connection. It hadn’t worked because Molly had been too young. The spell and the power that Merlin was using would have been enough for even that hair to have worked for finding her all the way into the Nevernever and to Arctis Tor. And trust me, as someone who has used tracking spells as often as I have, I know what I’m talking about when I say that this one was worth copying, even if I didn’t understand those slithery soft words that Merlin was saying. I got the basics.

“The anchor is close by,” Merlin said, his eyes glowing gold. I really did have to take a moment and ask why they did that. But maybe when we weren’t under such a time crunch.

Merlin gestured with his hand, and in the same sort of sphere that he’s used to show me Murphy’s face there now was a blond mustached man. He was in his mid-thirties, and had the alertness in his blue eyes that spoke of someone who faced danger regularly and did so unflinchingly.

“He is the anchor,” Merlin said.

Arthur looked and nodded. Merlin started walking out of the alley.

“Whoa, whoa,” I said. I grabbed and pulled him back before he could be seen. “We can‘t just go walking willy-nilly into Victorian England.”

“Willy-nilly?” Arthur mocked.

“Why not?” Merlin asked, frowning at me.

I sighed. “That’s probably how you got captured by the Wardens in my time. You both stand out too much.”

They both looked up at me. Arthur arched his eyebrows as he looked at the tops of my rubber-soled boots to my black shirt proudly proclaiming in large white letters, ‘A Wizard's Staff Has A Knob On The End’.

It was a gift. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

“Yes, because gigantically tall men wearing black leather are commonplace,” Arthur said, dryly.

“Fine, so you have a point,” I grumbled.

Arthur smirked at me.

Merlin grinned and headed out the alley again. Arthur quickly followed and I trailed behind them both. I made sure to pull my duster close around me. Even if my shirt and shoes were anachronistic, my leather duster wasn’t. At least, I hoped it wasn’t, I got enough snarky comments about it. And I knew that denim had been around even 150 years ago. I also made certain that my gun and blasting rod were tucked into my coat.

I quickly regretted that I didn’t wear hats. Practically every single man I could see, even the ones who were clearly down on their luck, wore a hat. I hunched my shoulders. I also wasn’t happy that I was drawing more attention than Merlin and Arthur.

That was just unfair. Arthur was wearing armor, for crying out loud. How did he get away with only a few lingering glances while I got full out stares? Well, if I’d thought I would go unnoticed, I was sorely wrong. Hell, even in Chicago when I walked around with my staff in hand I didn’t get nearly so much space to myself. And when I carried my staff I was going for the badass look.

I sighed and ignored the stares.

Since none of us had money for the carriages it took an hour of walking to get close enough to where the anchor was for Merlin’s spell to narrow down his exact location.

It was a bad neighborhood. I could see thugs with all type of scars and stained clothing hovering in the shadows of alleys, their eyes alert and hungry. They wouldn‘t even need an excuse to be violent. And women in worn clothing kept tossing out invites to passing men.

I’ve never been called a big boy by more women, and a couple of shadowy figures I was pretty sure weren’t women, in my life.

The smirks that Arthur kept tossing back at me were the only things that keeping me from dying of embarrassment. I had to live, if only to glare back at him. I shifted my walk into more of a stalk, keeping my head high and my eyes narrowed. Even when the predators are human, the best way to keep them from attacking is to act like a predator yourself.

I was so busy watching my surroundings that I almost missed it when Merlin and Arthur stopped walking and ducked through a doorway into some sort of bar. I grimaced and followed after them into a wall of noise.

The place was crowded. Men were shouting, jeering, cheering. Their attention was focused somewhere towards the center of the room. I was glad I was so tall, I could see over the crowd to the subject of all that attention. A fighting ring.

Two men stood in the center. They were bare-chested, slick with sweat and some blood, wearing only dark trousers and shoes. They were moving slowly - carefully - around each other. The bigger man had thick ropes of muscles of the sort that came from hard work, not from hitting a gym. He reminded me of Hendricks: a dangerous mountain of muscle. And he was eying the smaller man in front of him with a surprisingly cautious expression.

The smaller man was about 5 foot 9, with sharply defined muscles that made me twitch self-consciously over my own thin frame. He had wild dark hair and dark eyes that shone with intelligence. I was surprised when I saw that he had noticed me. Even with most of his focus on the fighter in front of him, he still was aware enough of his surroundings to note my entrance and probably that of Merlin and Arthur as well. Scary intelligent, I upgraded him

I pulled my attention away Scary Smart and looked for Merlin and Arthur, or even the anchor we were all looking for.

I found the anchor right away. He was the only man who wasn’t reacting in a loud way to the fight. No shouting or jeering, he leaned against a dirty bar and held a dark green bottle in one hand and a black wooden cane in the other. His expression was a mix of amusement and exasperation and I could see how his blue eyes tracked Scary Smart.

Having found him, I looked for Merlin, but he was lost somewhere in the crowd. I found Arthur as close to ring as it was possible to get without actually being inside it, watching the fight with intense interest. From his expression if there hadn‘t been a partition on the way he‘d have joined in. I snorted and moved towards him. I had to elbow sides and step on several feet before I could get close enough to yell into his ear to be heard above the din.

“I found him!” I shouted.

“What?” Arthur yelled back.

I rolled my eyes and pointed back towards the bar. “The guy you‘re looking for is over there!”

“Find Merlin!” His eyes went back to the fight.

I was too annoyed to argue and grabbed him by the arm to drag him away from the fighting ring. He protested and tried to dig in his heels but I had more forward momentum. I may be on the skinny side but with my height I have a lot of mass. And my anachronistic rubber soled boots had more grip than his leather ones.

He shook me off after I stopped us both at the bar. I looked at the anchor and back at Arthur, raising my eyebrows and pointedly tilting my head.

Arthur nodded and asked, “Where‘s Merlin?”

“How would I know? You two came in together.”

“Every single time… I swear, he does this on purpose _just_ to get on my nerves,” Arthur complained with a scowl. “He‘s going to be stuck cleaning the stables for a month!”

I snorted with laughter at the idea of the great and powerful Merlin stuck doing the sort of dirty jobs I used to do when I lived with Eb.

The crowd’s noise intensified as the fight began in earnest. I looked over to see Cousin Cujo jab four times in quick succession. But Scary Smart was fast and dodged each blow with ease. Ducking under fourth jab he moved in until he was barely a foot away from Cousin Cujo. There, he paused abruptly and gently patted the large man’s head - then threw himself back.

Just in time. A huge fist barely missed his face by less than an inch.

Scary Smart laughed, his footwork becoming oddly floating. It reminded me of Murphy’s martial arts moves. Whoever this smaller man was, he’d gotten some serious martial arts training at some point. And if he was anywhere as good as Murphy? The larger guy didn’t stand a chance.

The anchor next to us sighed in exasperation.

I turned to him, “I take it he does this a lot.” And nodded at Scary Smart that was now moving backward with ease until the big man left an opening in his defense and Scary Smart darted forward again. All he did was gently pat the guy’s cheek. His expression gently mocking. Then he retreated with a smirk and dancing eyes.

The caution that the bigger man had shown earlier vanished and he snarled with rage.

“Entirely too often,” sighed the anchor. His voice was annoyed but also fond.

I stuck out my hand. “I‘m Harry Dresden.”

The anchor put down his bottle and took my hand in a strong grip that was firm without going for the overcompensating finger-crush.

“Doctor John Watson,” he said, a small smile barely visible behind his mustache.

I stared.

John Watson. Doctor John Watson. No way.

Doctor John Watson was famous for publishing the chronicles of his adventures with Sherlock Holmes. The first and most famous private ‘consulting’ detective ever. Hell, Holmes had pioneered the job that I did. Except for the magic part. He’d set the standard so high that everyone who’d followed had never quite managed to surpass his reputation for brilliant detective work.

Stars and stones, the man was a hero of mine. Both of them were.

The expression on my face must have been odd because Watson gave me a searching, wary look.

“Um,” I said intelligently.

“You‘ve heard of me?” Watson guessed.

“You could definitely say that,” I said, once I’d finally got my brain going again. And here I thought meeting Merlin and Arthur was going to be the most shocking thing to happen to me today.

That’s when I realized who the smaller man in the ring had to be. My head snapped over.

I saw Sherlock Holmes move like a snake, dodging a series of heavy blows, he slide into a gap in Cousin Cujo’s defense and managed to catch the big guy’s momentum on his hip. And twisted, sending the big guy flying into and through the wooden partition of the fighting ring. The crowd dodged, and the man slid along the floor until he stopped just a few inches from Watson’s feet.

The fighter groaned, tried to get to his feet, and slumped back to the floor.

Watson shot Holmes an annoyed look and then crouched at the downed fighter’s side. He touched the man’s head, turning it to check his eyes. The big guy tried to jerk away, but Watson had too tight of a grip on him. He said, “Don‘t move, I‘m a doctor.” And the big man lay still and quiet.

“One of these days, those words won‘t be enough, old boy,” Holmes said cheerfully, walking towards us. Again I could see him taking me in.

“Was that necessary?” Watson asked irritated..

“Entirely,” Holmes said, “he insulted my mother.”

The injured man groaned in protest. “No. Brother.”

“Oh,” Holmes said, looking down at the fighter. “My apologies, then. You can insult my brother all you like.”

Merlin came clattering down the staircase that led to the second story of the bar with a shout. I blinked and wondered what he’d been doing up there.

“Arthur! The knights are going to be here soon. I just felt their arrival!”

Arthur pulled out Excalibur from the belted scabbard at his hip.

I swore and got out my blasting rod. I wished I’d more rounds for the shotgun, again. Or that I had my staff. I promised myself to finish it as soon as I got back to my time.

“Knights?” Holmes asked. He stepped in front of Watson and took a protective stance. He evaluated Arthur with cool regard, then me, then Merlin. “You two,” he indicated to Arthur and Merlin, “are wearing clothing that hadn’t been created by any industrial process.” He looked at me with intense interest, “And you are wearing materials I’ve never seen before. Intriguing.”

I could almost see it as Holmes used that staggering intellect of his and came to exactly the right conclusion.

“You’re time travelers.”

I gulped.

Watson stood up and eyed us. “Time travelers? Like in ‘The Chronic Argonauts’ by Wells?”

“Clearly, Watson. Observe the state of that armor: It isn‘t a reproduction. There are faint scratches from heavy use. The leather straps are worn, but carefully cared for and oiled. The sword is especially interesting, as it fits the description of a sword last seen wielded by Arthur Pendragon of Camelot.”

Watson stared at Arthur with wide eyes, the shade of blue was so very similar to Arthur’s and to Murphy’s. But it wasn‘t just the color that made them look so much alike: there was a toughness there, a gentleness and quiet intelligence. I would bet money that the eyes of that future captain were the same. Heroic eyes.

Arthur gave Holmes an impressed salute with his sword. “Are you sure _he_ isn‘t my descendant? He’s too smart to be yours,” he asked Merlin. His words made surprise cross the faces of both Victorian men.

I choked. Holmes was also of Merlin’s bloodline?

Merlin gave Arthur a dirty look. “I‘m not an idiot, you know, no matter how often you call me one.”

Arthur just smirked.

I shook my head. “Flirt later guys, Mordred‘s knights are going to be here any second, remember?”

The outraged expressions on both their faces made me grin. I focused and poured will into my blasting rod. The carved sigils lit with orange light and the smell of wood smoke in the bar got stronger.

Now I was the one getting the stares from Watson and Holmes.

I’d prepared to fight just in time, because less than a second later panicked screams came from the street outside. I swore and ran out, Arthur at my side.

“Get the blood! We‘ll hold them off,” Arthur shouted back over his shoulder.

I didn’t hear Merlin’s response as I tore out of the entrance into a panicked street.

Everyone in the street was running. Several women were screaming. A few men shot revolvers at the ten knights as they advanced toward us from twenty feet away. But they aimed for the chests, instead of for their legs, where it could have actually helped. The knights walked into the bullets without stopping.

And even worse, those men where blocking my line of fire.

“Get clear!” I shouted. They ignored me.

I focused and snarled, _“Ventas servitas!”_

The blow of wind smacked into the men with hurricane force. I’d focused it to come at them sideways and knocked them into an alley.

As soon as the path was clear I raised my blasting rod and shouted, _“Fuego!”_

This time, I had tucked a bit of soulfire into the spell. The fire that roared out of end of my blasting rod glowed white hot and hit the legs of the first row of knights like a bolt of force.

They fell to ground, and Arthur swept in with all the fury reminiscent of his draconic surname. He roared and struck with Excalibur, killing one knight without stopping and slicing the arm off another. His sword flashed with brilliant light and when he spun it in a circular pattern it seemed to form a solid shield. Impossibly, it took the blows of three separate undead knights and flung them back.

The power pouring off the sword was intense in a completely different way than I was used to: this was the sword before it had come to be wielded by a Knight of the Cross. It felt older, wilder, and infused with a magic so ancient that my bones ached.

“Impressive.”

I caught myself just in time, pulling my blow just before I smashed my rod into the face of Sherlock Holmes. “Stars and stones, don’t do that,” I growled.

“Merlin mentioned you could use this,” Holmes said, without concern. He handed me a revolver.

I grabbed it from him and followed the path Arthur had carved to get close enough to use the gun. I shot at the knees of the knights just like I had before. The kick of the gun was wilder than I was used to, and I had to suppress a cough from the smoke that billowed out but it got the job done.

Holmes saw what I was doing and joined me with his own gun. Between us, we managed to keep the knights down and away from Merlin and Watson long enough for Arthur to kill them all. It took at most eight minutes. Afterwards, we panted for breath and grinned at each other.

Arthur wasn’t even breathing hard when he came to join us, the bastard. He idly kicked away the head of a knight.

“That‘s the last of them right?” I asked.

“They should be,” said Arthur. “All twenty-four are destroyed, unless Mordred decides to send more after us. ”

I grimaced. “Way to be a killjoy, Arthur.”

He gave me a confused look. I didn’t bother explaining the meaning of the term.

“Then we should get going,” Holmes said, his dark eyes taking in the armored bodies littering the street. “Before Scotland Yard shows up to ask some unpleasant questions. Even Inspector Lestrade will be able to deduce that something very odd occurred here. I don‘t even want to begin to try to explain.”

We went back into the bar. The entire place was clear. The crowd of men had gotten out sometime during the fight, even the big guy that Holmes had knocked down was gone.

Merlin was standing in the center of the fighting ring, Watson right outside the partition. He wasn’t wearing his coat. One arm of his shirt was rolled up to the elbow and was putting pressure on it with a white handkerchief. It was slowly turning red.

Merlin looked up at us and smiled widely. “I have the blood!”

“I should hope so,” Arthur snorted. “You had more than enough time.”

Merlin ignored him and beckoned to me. I stepped into the ring. Arthur followed me and Holmes stopped by Watson’s side. They exchanged a look so complex I couldn’t even begin to decipher it.

“I can send you back now,” Merlin said. “After you, we‘ll head back to our time.”

“Good,” I said. “Any longer and I‘ll have Wardens descending on my head.”

Merlin gave me a sympathetic look. “For this to work, it’s going to use some of your magic,” he explained briskly. “You need to focus on your time. Focus on your home.”

I snorted. “Okay, Glenda, there‘s no place like home. I got it.” That earned me four bewildered expressions and I sighed. I never get appreciated for my clever cultural references. “Just start the spell.”

Apparently it’s easier to fall forward in time, since it follows the natural temporal flow, and physics doesn’t throw a fit. That’s why, Merlin explained, they went so far ahead and planned to slowly jump back. After they sent me home, he and Arthur would have three more hops, skips and jumps before they landed in their right time.

So the set up for me went faster. Only about a minute of chanting, and that glowing blue-white puddle of light opened up on the floor.

I took a deep breath and mentally called up the most intense and detailed picture I could of my workshop. I held it in my mind. I believed in it. It was mine. It was the safest place on earth for me. It was my home.

And I stepped into the light.  
*-*-*-*

I landed on my ass, right smack in the center of the inlaid silver ring that was set into the concrete floor of my workshop. I yelped, but fortunately it was drowned out by my apprentice’s scream of shock. Molly brought up a shield even as she screamed, and I was proud of her quick reaction time.

Well, I would be proud, once my ears stopped bleeding.

“Stars and stones, grasshopper, you have quite a set of lungs on you,” I groaned. “Tone down the air siren would you?”

“Harry?” she gasped.

“Who else do you know who calls you grasshopper?” I stood up and walked out of the circle on shaky legs. Easier to go forward, like hell. I felt like I’d been sucked into a cyclone and then spat out only to drop ten stories down.

“What happened? How did you appear like that? Where were you? You’ve been gone for two days!”

Two days. Huh. Not bad. I’d been worried I’d miss the mark by years or worse, decades.

“Molly, you wouldn‘t believe me even if I told you,” I said, shaking my head. I could barely believe not only what I’d seen, but also who I’d met.

“Why not?” she asked.

“Because the whole thing? It was just impossible.”

End.


End file.
